Date Night
by DrawMeASheep
Summary: Post Jurisdiction. The lead up and aftermath of the final scene.


Disclaimer: What's it do, nibble your bum?

Spoilers: _Jurisdiction_.

Summary: Tony and Ziva's movie night, before and after.

* * *

Seeing the name on the caller ID of her cell phone, Ziva tried not to look like she was in a hurry as she left the bullpen. She ducked into the elevator as she said, "Hello?"

"Hey, Ziva."

The doors were slow to close, prompting some violent button-smashing. "You do not sound happy. Did your interview go poorly?"

"No, it was actually pretty good. They put me on the short list of candidates for the job."

"But that is good news!" Her surprise seemed to translate into the jarring emergency stop of the elevator. "Is something else wrong?"

"Sort of. My second interview is scheduled for tomorrow afternoon. The position isn't even at this office, it's at one in…it's far away. And if I get it, they want me to start right away and I'll need to find a place and…I'm not gonna be back in DC in time. I'm sorry."

"There is no need to apologize. This is important. We can go out other another time."

"I hope so. I was…" She could almost see him staring at the floor, scuffing his feet. "I was really looking forward to, y'know, seeing you. Now I don't know if I'm even gonna be able to make it there or if I'll have to get to Oregon right away."

"Oregon. Wow."

"Yeah, they've got a training program for new guards and they want me to…maybe I should just forget about this."

"Damon…" She had to admit there was something very flattering about his doubts. It was satisfying to think he was willing to put his entire life on indefinite hold just to… She nearly gave herself a headslap for her selfishness. "You need a job. You told me yourself that you hate sitting around doing nothing. This could be good for you."

He laughed mirthlessly. "Teaching security guards to apprehend trespassers is supposed to be good for me?"

"Oh, when you said it was private security, I assumed…"

"Yeah, I know. Not that. I wouldn't have minded another gig like I had with Bell, but that was…this is fine. It's not like I'm qualified to do much else."

A beep on the line indicated that she was overstaying her time in the elevator, but she wasn't ready to hang up just yet. "Have you thought about going to college?"

"Nah, I…I'd never make it through. I don't think I'm college material."

"It would not hurt to try. If this job does not work out, I mean."

"I kinda hope…I just wish I could get something closer to…to DC."

"It is unfortunate that the economy is not…"

"It's not about the job, Ziva. I…I know it was just one night, but I can't stop thinking about it and I…"

She didn't ignore the beep this time. "Damon, I'm sorry, but I am getting another call and…can I call you back tonight when I get home?"

"Yeah. Sure. Hope you don't get stuck working too late."

"I will call you."

"Yeah, I know. I'll talk to you later."

"Goodbye, Damon." She didn't bother to pick up the waiting call, instead restarting the elevator.

Tony was waiting in the squad room when she arrived. "Hate to interrupt your personal calls, Probie, but I'm outta caffeine."

"You called to tell me you need another cappuccino?" she asked through gritted teeth.

"I figured you could get it before you went to grab this case file from storage." He held up a piece of paper. "Gibbs' request."

"Why do I think Gibbs requested _you_ to do it?"

"Because in spite of your probationary status, you're still a pretty good investigator. Get yourself something good, too." He tucked a ten into the front pocket of her shirt before yanking his arm back through the closing doors.

She pulled out her phone and almost made the mistake of redialing the last incoming call. She had plenty of time to talk with Tony later. "Damon? Hi, turns out it was not anything important." The breeze was warm as she stepped outside the building. "I've got about ten minutes now and I did not want you to feel like I was brushing you off…"

* * *

"Much as I like popcorn for dinner, my stomach is saying it's time to move past the appetizers and soft drinks. I know it's Friday night, but…you don't by any chance have a reservation that you forgot to cancel."

Ziva ignored Tony's fishing expedition, saying, "I think it is late enough that we should not have to wait too long, provided you are thinking of a place that serves hamburgers."

"Hamburgers and beer. You can't forget the beer or we'll end up with Happy Meals. Hey you know who makes amazing hamburgers?"

"Who?"

"You. If you've got beer at home…"

"I _was_ planning to cook tonight, but I only have fish."

"So…you were gonna make fish on Friday night for your date. Catholic guy?"

"That has not come up."

"Don't know him well enough to discuss religion, then?" He sidled past her to pop the DVD out of his computer.

"All I said was that we had not talked about it. He mentioned that he liked salmon, I said I would make it. He was not able to make our date, now I have enough salmon to feed two."

"Are you inviting me over for salmon?"

She looked around the bullpen curiously. "Don't you have something to do here?"

"What? No. My buddy Gregg had a little too much to drink the other night and, uh, long story short, he's buying me a new TV over the weekend. But I can watch TV at your place for a while." He dragged her chair halfway back to her desk. "Did you think I was hanging around because I had some work to do? Because I have a probie who does most of my paperwork these days."

"Keep it up and you will not have one for long."

"Will I still have a probie who cooks me dinner?"

She dropped her coat on her desk, wondering if remaining in the office and ordering take-out with another pirate movie on the plasma would be a better idea. "Tony…"

"Sorry." He waited by the partition as she retrieved all her gear. "I'll pick up some beer on my way over."

"I have wine."

"Oooh. Say you have mashed potatoes and the night will be perfect."

"Sorry, broccoli."

He punched the button for the lobby. "Guess you weren't looking for another date if you were making broccoli."

"Not all men share your terror of vegetables. He asked for broccoli."

"How many meal requests did you take from this guy? Did you happen to catch his name between coming up with menus?"

She held her tongue, as she was fairly certain Tony would not have a positive response. They would be out of the elevator soon enough.

"Hey, Ziva, you listening?"

She was in the parking lot before she casually turned to say, "I had not yet had a chance to cook for Damon, so I thought…"

"Werth?" Tony interrupted. "I thought he went to Ohio!"

"He has been doing some traveling, actually. He is currently in Buffalo, interviewing for a job."

"Buffalo's further than Ohio, at least," she heard him mutter.

She decided it was best not to mention that Damon would be moving to Oregon next, instead saying, "He has been back and forth to DC, but it does not look like he will be back for a while. He got the job he was interviewing for today and he accepted."

"Hey, good for him." Tony jumped into his car and rolled down the window just far enough to say, "I'll meet you at your place," before speeding out of the parking lot.

She watched him run the stop sign as he turned the corner before settling behind the wheel of her own car. She didn't regret mentioning Damon's name, exactly, because Tony would have pestered her until he found out who her date had been, but she hadn't been ready to discuss the matter either. She already knew how the conversation would proceed from here.

_How can you date him? _

_I like him._

_He broke my nose!_

_He hit me, too, but he is not that person anymore._

_You're sure he's off the juice?_

_Yes._

Then there would be a joke about steroids and male genitalia. Then Tony would get uncomfortable when she defended Damon's and ask how she knew and she would tell him…no, she wouldn't tell him. There was no reason for her to share that with Tony. He didn't need to know every last detail of her love life, especially since he was not an integral part…_any_ part of it. They were friends. Friends having dinner on a Friday night. Friends did things like that. She looked up with some surprise and wondered how she had gotten to her street so quickly.

Tony was sitting on her front stoop, chatting on his cell phone. "Nah, it's fine. Sure, tomorrow night is good. No, I'm at a friend's place. Well, yeah. But we're just friends. Only if I drink too much." Ziva was now close enough to hear a feminine voice squawking as Tony protested, "No! I didn't mean…" He sighed with frustration as he snapped his phone closed and looked up. "You try to explain why you won't be drunk driving and…you busy tomorrow night? Because I don't think my date is looking to reschedule anymore."

She didn't remark on the fact that she had assumed his date was imaginary. "Shall we go upstairs?"

"If I eat some broccoli tonight, will you make hamburgers tomorrow?"

"If you behave."

His eyes flicked back and forth in the hallway outside her apartment. "No questions about Corporal Punishment, then?"

"Assuming you can help yourself."

He tossed his coat over the back of the couch. "I'll open the wine, you tie on your apron. I'm starving, woman!" He gave himself an automatic headslap. "I really am hungry, though."

"Good." She swept through the kitchen, pulling cooking implements out of cabinets and drawers. She used a large fork to point at him over the counter. "I will make plenty of broccoli."

"I thought you said I was your friend! Friends don't make friends, uh…"

"Eat healthy?" she finished for him.

"Stop trying to make broccoli sound like a good thing." He pulled the cork out of one of the wine bottles with a pop. "Think I won't notice I'm eating vegetables if I drink enough of this?"

Her back was to him as she said, "You can stay even if you are not drunk."

The sounds of tinkling glass stopped. "Really?"

"On the couch."

"Did you make Werth sleep on the couch?"

"Tony…"

He was clearly intimidated by the warning in her tone. "Sorry. I'll eat more broccoli."

She shocked herself by saying, "I do not know if it will work out between Damon and I."

"I didn't say…"

"I know, but if we do not talk about it we will spend the entire evening discussing green vegetables and your aversion to them. I like spending time with Damon, but he is not settled. That is not the kind of relationship I want. I think I have reached a point where I would like some stability in my life."

"Steady job, okay credit score stable or signed certificate from a mental health professional stable?"

She raised an eyebrow and accepted the wineglass he passed her. "Are you getting your new television tomorrow?"

"Huh? Oh, that. Not 'til Sunday."

"And you will be here until then?"

"Well…"

"Perhaps we could go back to vegetables." She bumped him with her hip as she passed by with the washed broccoli. "Just for a bit."


End file.
